Shanaynay Takes a Vacay
by figgitywookie6
Summary: Shanaynay, YouTube's ghetto princess, is in need of a vacation. When her friend Rhonda announces she's going on a trip for two to Germany with Aunt Hilda, Shanaynay's jealousy takes over, and together with her BF Shane, they head after the pair.
1. Chapter 1

**Let me just say, Shane Dawson is awesome. He has great comedy skills, perfect timing in comedic situations and scenarios, and rerunning gags that never get old. So here's a little tribute story to his undisputed greatest character, Shanaynay.**

Deep in the heart of an unnamed ghetto, Shanaynay was busy looking at the jewels of some Mexican man.

No, not those kinds of jewels. It was a Wednesday, and she don't work that shift Wednesdays.

These were bling, rings, necklaces and such, and they were being sold at discount prices by the Mexican man. Some were 10% off, some 15% off, some as far as 50% off. Shanaynay knew very well that a lot of these were stolen or probably belonged to some dead pimp who got his ass shot by a mercenary stripper hired by a rival gang to hide a concealed gun somewhere on her body. Considering all they wear are G-strings and pasties, you can probably guess where. I hope she washed it first. And kept the safety on.

But Shanaynay herself was not bothered by these things. They happened all the time in the ghetto. And as exciting and terrifying as they made life, she had grown somewhat accustomed to them. Almost to the point of being bored with them. Recently she had been thinking about going on a vacation, taking a break from the backstreet scene and going to a far-off country, where she could stay in a crappy hotel, get impregnated by HIV-raddled foreign dudes, and eat foods that would give her a shitstorm of diarrhea. Yeah, all those good things…

"Senorita, would you please buy something and go?" the Mexican man said.

Shanaynay looked up indignantly. "Don't you rush me. I can stay here and look at your products as long as I want. And why you tellin' me to hurry anyways? Ain't no one else here."

A homeless lady with missing teeth who was sitting nearby, wrapped up in a dirty blanket, raised her hand. "I'm here."

Shanaynay looked at her. "No, honey, I meant people."

The lady stared at her, then dejectedly retracted her arm.

Shanaynay turned back to the man. "So what, you don't like black people? Think they bad for business? Little racist-ass Messican."

The man looked at her confusedly. "You are…a black?"

She narrowed her eyes. "I'm light-skinned." She looked back down at the products and muttered under her breath "Like Vin Diesel." Then she spotted a ring with a cat's face composed of different-colored diamonds on it.

"Ooh, ain't that just the cutest little shit?" Shanaynay cooed. It was SO kawaii! She knew she had to have it. "How much for the cat ring?" she asked.

"Uh… Just so you know, that ring was found in a dead hooker's throat because an angry, abusive, and drunk husband shoved it in there in his sexual rage and she choked to death on it."

Shanaynay tried to remain calm with the man's ignorance. "Lemme repeat my question: How much for the cat ring?"

"Four hundred dollars."

"_Four hundred dollars for that fucking cat?_ Jeez, if I wanted cat bling that bad I could just beat up a little Japanese girl and steal her I Love Kitty merchandise! And you know how much that would cost me? Zero fuckin' dollars, mm-hmm! So you know what that's what I'se gonna do! Imma go mug a little Japanese girl! Have _that_ on your conscience, George Lopez!"

She started to turn around when the man said "Wait!" She turned back around to face him with her hands on her hips.

"For you, I bring price down to three hundred-ninety dollars."

The ghetto woman smiled and walked back over to the stand. "Well shit, since you'se throwin' deals out an' all I guess I'll buy it. Just let me get my wallet out…" She stuck her hand in her pocket and looked at the man. "You know, a long time ago they didn't have paper money like we do today. They had to pay for jewelry with their own precious metals. Gold for gold, y'know? Of course, if you couldn't pay for it in gold, you could always pay for it"—suddenly she pulled out her gun and pointed it to his head—"in silver."

The Mexican's eyes went wide and he took a step back. "W-What are you doing?" he asked, stunned.

"Fucker, I wasn't born yesterday! Three hundred-ninety dollars? That's just a ten-dollar difference! Now if you had brought it down to three hundred-eighty-five, then we might've been gettin' somewhere."

"B-But that is just five dollars less!"

"And that's five dollars I could've used for a Subway sandwich," Shanaynay reasoned. "Feelin' kinda hungry…"

"Please! You can't shoot me! I have a wife and 26 kids! And I'm a priest at the church!"

"Well then Via con Dios, bitch."

_BOOM!_

The Mexican man was blasted backwards by the bullet. Shanaynay picked up the ring and put it on her finger. "I'm sorry," she said, looking at the man, "but I don't care what it is- deals, a board game, a relationship, or one of those Saw torture setups- I do _not_ tolerate cheating." She turned to the homeless woman sitting nearby. "Now tell me: What did you see?"

"I…didn't see anyth-"

"LYING BITCH!" Shanaynay loaded six rounds into the woman. Then she looked at her gun and back at the woman. "Woops, guess I shoulda let her finish first."

Suddenly sirens wailed from a couple blocks away.

"Dammit! Every time!" She quickly stuffed more of the merchandise into the pockets of her blue jean coat and ran off.

_Two hours later…_

Back in her apartment, Shanaynay found herself furiously scratching the finger she had put the ring on. "Damn this is a hell of a rash! That dead bitch floss her teeth with poison oak or somethin'?" She was just about to head to the kitchen and cut the finger off when she thought of something.

"I know! I'll call Rhonda! That hoe is like the Wikipedia of STDs!" Flipping open her cell phone, she dialed her best friend's number and waited for her to answer.

"Rhonda Honda Yamaha Suzuki Kawasaki here!" came the voice on the other end.

"Hey, girl!" Shanaynay greeted. "Listen, I need yo advice. I just got this new ring from a discount stand owned by a dirty, racy Mexican-"

"Low-pay Jose's?"

"Well he should probably change his name to No-pay Jose now…"

"What do you mean?"

"Uh…never mind. Look, is there any type of STD that's transferred via jewelry and-"

"Who's callin'?" came a voice in the background. "It's not that screwed-up slut girlfriend of Shane's, is it?"

"Rhonda… Who was that?" Shanaynay asked. The voice was annoyingly familiar.

Rhonda's own voice instantly became nervous. "Oh, uh, nothing, just some random pedestrian asking me for the time."

As Shanaynay listened closer, she heard a droning noise in the background, and an angry man saying 'if that little punk doesn't stop kicking the back of my seat, I will literally crash this plane into the ground so everyone on board blows into a million fucking pieces'.

"Girl… Are you on a plane?"

"…Yes."

"To where?"

"Germany."

All of a sudden Shanaynay felt angry. "What the hell are you doin' on a big-ass plane headed for Germany?"

"Well, girl, it's like this: I got two free tickets for a vacation to Germany, right? Me and a friend. So, I used them."

The ghetto woman became even more infuriated. "Uh, Rhonda, just kinda pokin' fun at the obvious here, WHY THE FUCK AM I NOT WITH YOU? You know how many times I've been sayin' to you 'I need a vacation' this past week?"

"93 times."

Shanaynay stared at the cell phone.

"…But, who's counting, right?"

"Why'd you take someone other than me?"

"Uh-" Suddenly there was a muffling noise on the other end, like someone had taken the phone out of Rhonda's hand. Then the voice that had previously spoken came on. And Shanaynay was not at all happy about who she heard.

"Cause she likes me better, bitch."

No… It couldn't be… It wasn't…

"That's right. Your favorite Jewish, purple-haired, cocaine-snortin' psychopath."

"Aunt Hilda…" Shanaynay growled.

"The one and fucking only."

The ghetto woman's eye twitched. "Um, would you be so kind as to hand the phone back to Rhonda?"

"I'll just put you on speakerphone instead."

"Alrighty then," Shanaynay said, smiling politely.

"Yes?" came Rhonda's small voice.

"Oh, HELL NO! HELL _NO!_ You did NOT fuckin' bring that bagel-munching, dagger-tongued piece of shit over me! Rhonda, you are _so_ fucking off my Facebook friends list! I mean, why the hell would you bring a Jew to Germany?"

"I would've brought you!" Rhonda desperately tried to explain. "But, well, you see…"

_Flashback_

_Rhonda and Aunt Hilda are both inside a sex toy shop called Vibrat'R Us. They are looking at dildos when Rhonda opens up a package of German sausages (she likes to eat dick-shaped foods to get horny). Two tickets fall out, and after picking them up she discovers a message inside saying she's won a sweepstakes and gets a free trip to Germany, and can take a friend._

"_I won! I won!" she shouted._

_Aunt Hilda looks over to tell the bitch to shut her squealing mouth the fuck right up when she notices the girl has two tickets._

"_Say," Aunt Hilda said cleverly, "you, uh, know who you want to take with you?"_

"_Mmm…I haven't really decided yet."_

_Then Hilda noticed the ring on her finger. "Oh," she said flatly. "You're probably gonna take your husband, right?"_

"_Oh, no, he's hardly a husband. I mean, I want to divorce him, but I can't afford a lawyer or nothin'."_

_This gave Hilda an idea. "You know," she whispered slyly, "I know some pretty good lawyers myself. I could, y'know, hook you up, make sure you get everything while his sorry, broke ass is rotting in the gutter."_

"_How do you know these lawyers are good?"_

"_Honey, I'm Jewish. Nuff said."_

"_Well I guess that makes sense."_

"_Right. And you know what? I won't even charge! All you have to do is take me on that trip."_

_Rhonda thought about it. She glanced at her tickets, then at Aunt Hilda, then at a pink dildo, then back at her tickets. "…It's a deal," she said._

"_Schweet," said Hilda. She looked over at the person working the register. "I'll take a sample right here, please."_

_Rhonda raised her eyebrow. "They let you try them out?"_

"_Well, me personally, yes." Aunt Hilda got out her wallet and opened it up, where she displayed a card like an officer would a badge. On the card it said 'Licensed Vibrator Connoisseur'._

_End of flashback_

"…Girl, that excuse is lamer than a one-legged dog!" Shanaynay shouted.

"Jealous much, ya little whore?" Aunt Hilda asked.

"IMMA FUCKIN' MURDER YO ASS, HILDA! You hear me? You'll be getting butt-fucked by earthworms six feet underground before the week is up!"

"Is that so?"

"You _know_ it is!"

"And how are you going to do that? The plane is taking off right now."

"I…" Shanaynay had had enough. All the crap, all the boredom, all the cheating, was going to end today. "I'm coming after you!" she yelled into the cell. "I'm gonna hop aboard a plane myself, track you down in Germany, kill you, then enjoy a real-ass vacation! Like, FO'serious!"

"Well in the words of Leonardo Di Caprio, catch me if you can." Aunt Hilda hung up the phone.

Oh, it was on! Shit just got real, shit just got _real_ real. Shanaynay noticed that the itching had stopped, and she looked down at her finger, completely normal as before. It was a sign. The need to go on a vacation had been the real itch, and she had just relieved it.

But the question was, how was she going to make it happen?

"Let's see… Who can I dib off of for vacation money? …My pimp? No, wait, I shot him… Ned? …No, wait, he shot me… Hodini?" This made her laugh. "I'm sorry, but I just couldn't help myself. That bitch is broke as all get-out."

Suddenly her phone dinged its text message tune. Shanaynay checked it and saw a picture message had been sent to her. She looked at it.

It was a picture of Aunt Hilda sitting in a plane passenger seat, flipping her the bird. With it was a text message. It read 'Shane can do better than you, you cumbucket slut!'

This gave Shanaynay an idea. "Ooh! I knows, I knows! I'll ask Shane for the money! He's got plenty, the spoiled little crybaby bitch."

She went into her bathroom, made sure she applied lots of lipstick, redrew her raised eyebrow, and blow-dried her hair. It was important to look nice when asking your boyfriend for money. As she headed for her apartment's front door, however, she grabbed her gun out of her pocket and stopped by a desk. Pulling open a drawer full of bullets, she carefully reloaded her gun.

"Hopefully Shane's in a good mood today," she said as she tucked the gun away into her pocket/holster. "I would hate to force him to give me the money by holding a gun to his pretty head."

**So was it funny? Is the dialogue right for each of the characters? Let me know! *=***

**The adventure shall continue! (but I don't know when)**


	2. Chapter 2

Shanaynay pulled up into Shane's house's driveway fifteen minutes later. As she got out, she went to inspect the back wheel of her SUV. Which, actually, wasn't hers; it belonged to the Bernards, 1125 Swan Drive, but they didn't seem to mind letting her borrow it, especially when she was showing them the new stock on her gun.

"Oh, I guess I did run over that little boy," she noted as she peeled out a tricycle tire and spoke from the wheel well. "And I coulda sworn I just clipped his trike… Oh well. Body's not here. He's probably fine. Teach that family not to have a garage sale in the street."

Back down the way she came, two coyotes were dragging the little boy's body down the shoulder of the road and into the woods.

She started up the steps for the front door. While doing so, she noticed there were a lot of yellow spots on the front lawn.

Out of nowhere a shotgun blast erupted from the household. The front window blew outward as shattered glass sprayed everywhere.

"WHAT THE FUCK?" Shanaynay shouted, flinching backwards.

"Yeah, you damn cat! Teach you to piss on my lawn!" a voice from near the window shouted.

"Hold your fire!" Shanaynay shouted, instantly recognizing Shane's mom's voice. "Do you I look like a fucking cat to you?"

"What? Oh, sorry. I didn't see you from behind the blinds- Wait. …Shanaynay?"

"Yeah, it's me."

Mom reloaded her .12-gauge and fired again. A paneling plank splintered two feet to Shanaynay's right.

"Damn it, bitch, stop shooting!" Shanaynay yelled angrily, jumping to the side.

Mom saw that she missed again. "Damn," she muttered under her breath. "Uh, sorry! Bit of a hair trigger on this thing."

Shanaynay stared at her with a disbelieving look.

_A few minutes later…_

"Hilda went _where?_" Mom asked.

She, Shane, and Shanaynay were sitting at the dining table, where the third had explained the whole scenario about Aunt Hilda and Rhonda going to Germany. Shane's emo brother Rob was listening from the hallway, drawn out from his Skype conversation with a naked old man by the commotion.

"How could you be so retarded? She's been saying it all three days before the trip," he informed Mom.

Mom turned to him, irritated. "Oh, I'm sorry. I guess the only thing I can really remember is the cesarean section scar I received from giving birth to you because your fugly faggot face reminds me of it every day."

"I HATE YOU!" Rob screamed and stormed off to his room.

"Ah, get to back to your private conversation with Mr. Hendricks, you frotophile," she shouted after him.

"Well I can see your family's communication skills haven't faded," Shanaynay whispered to Shane.

"Look, Shanaynay," Shane said to her, "I'm sorry if you really wanted to go on that trip. It probably wasn't fair that Aunt Hilda bribed your friend into taking her-"

"It may not have been fair, but it sure was smart," Mom chortled, taking a swig of her ever-present beer.

"But we can't just lay down the money for an expensive trip to Germany because you're angry," Shane finished, giving a thanks-a-lot glance at Mom.

"Look, if I had the money myself, I wouldn't be here askin' yous for this," Shanaynay tried to explain. "Besides, I figured you could spare it 'cause you're rich."

"What makes you think that?"

"Shane, you got a nice house with working appliances and clean water that's outside the ghetto area. If you can afford all that, trust me, you'se is rich."

"Honey, just because we have these things doesn't mean we're rich," Mom pointed out. "It just means we're not desperate dumbass ghetto-goers who have to give blowjobs in order to afford a Whopper for breakfast from Burger King. BJ for a BK, you know?"

Shanaynay's eye twitched. "And, uh, to which individual in this room do you think those fake-ass stereotypes apply?"

"Now, um, let's not start discussing those kinds of things, because stereotypes aren't true, okay?" Shane said nervously, trying to ease the tension.

"Whatever," Mom said. "The point is, we're not broke, but we're not rich."

"Rich enough to constantly keep a six-pack around," Shanaynay muttered under her breath.

"What was that?"

"I said, I'm not stepping down from my request to go to Germany." She stood up. "Now, I will repeat that same request: Give me three thousand dollars so I can track down your sister, kill her, and spend the rest of the week living in luxury while on vacation."

Shane closed his eyes in exasperation. What was it going to take to get her to realize it wasn't going to happen? "Shanaynay, we're not gonna-"

Suddenly he found himself face to face with the barrel of Shanaynay's revolver.

"Give me the money?" Shanaynay concluded his sentence. "Oh, I think you will." Shane's and Mom's eyes opened wide with alarm.

"What the hell are you doing?" Shane cried.

"Great Shane. You're crazy girlfriend's gonna kill us," Mom said. "Now I'm not sure if I hate you or your brother more."

"Oh, relax, you pussies," Shanaynay said, annoyed. "It's not like I've never held a motherfuckin' gun before. I know how to-"

"Pizza delivery!" a guy in a Dominos uniform suddenly shouted as he looked in through the open front door.

"AAH!" Shanaynay yelped and shot him five times. He fell forward on top of the pizza box.

"Oh my God!" Shane screamed.

"I know!" Mom agreed. "That pizza's thirty-eight minutes late! Quick, get me the phone so I can order a new one!"

"What the hell was that gunshot?" Rob asked, panicked, as he stepped from the hallway.

"AAH!" Shanaynay turned and shot him.

"Meow."

"AAH!" Shanaynay turned back around and shot the cat that had been peeing on the front lawn. Its body exploded and blood splattered everywhere.

"SHANAYNAY PUT THE GUN DOWN!" Shane screeched.

"Don't tell me what to do, Shane! I am NOT in my happy zone right now! Now what's the combination to your safe?"

"We don't have a safe, we have bank accounts!"

Mom turned to him. "And you really had to fuckin' tell her that?"

Shanaynay grabbed Shane by the back of his shirt and pulled him up out of his seat. "You're coming with me."

"W-where are we going?"

"To make a little withdrawal. And then to Germany. I ain't gonna go lookin' like some lonely-ass hoe. Besides, I need you for all the shit I can't do without my license or credit card." With the gun pointed at his head and holding him like a hostage as she backed out the front door, Shanaynay shuffled toward the SUV. "Just know that I still love you through all this," she whispered in his ear. His eyes remained open in terror as she pushed him into the driver seat.

Mom came to the door and waved goodbye, watching the car roll down the street. "Have fun, Shane! Send a postcard. And alcohol. And men." She looked down at the pizza man on the ground. Bending over, she picked up the box and noticed there was blood only on one side of it; the other half of the pizza would be fine. She flipped open the lid.

"…Pineapple? Damn it, Shane!" she shouted. "That's the _last_ time I ask you to order pizza! I officially declare you worse than your brother!"

Out of thin air the ghost of the recently deceased emo appeared on the front door step. "Really?" he asked hopefully. "You mean it?"

"Oh, shut up and go back to burning in Hell, would ya?" Mom told him.

Rob looked at the ground, denied once more, and slowly faded.

**Second chapter was funny as well? Yes? No? Tell me what I'm doing right, tell me what I'm doing wrong! ****Help me to help you!**


	3. Chapter 3

'Please insert debit card' read the screen of the Wells Fargo ATM.

"Shanaynay, I need my debit card," Shane said, still nervous but now rather angry that his supposed girlfriend was holding a gun to his head. And so casually flipping it to and fro, at that. He was gripping the steering wheel tightly as they sat in the car. Apparently, as his captor put it, it was more private to use the drive-thru.

Shanaynay was already looking through his wallet. She pulled up several cards, tossing them over her shoulder when they weren't the Wells Fargo card. She paused to read one.

"'Buy two ice creams, get a third one free'?" she said, her eyebrow raised.

"What?" Shane asked innocently. "The lady at the Baskin Robbins offered me it."

"Ooh, shit! We'se gotta stop there on the way to the airport!" she bubbled excitedly.

"Who would the third cone be for?" Shane asked.

Shanaynay glared at him. "You callin' me fat?" she questioned.

"No, I'm just thinking that we might-"

"Look Shane, not everyone can have pretty hair and an anorexic body like yo whorish self, so don't be actin' like you's this month's hottest shit. Here's your card. Little Narcie…"

Shane stared forward disinterestedly, taking the card and putting it into the electronic slot. He entered his pin number, and a list of options came up. He selected 'Withdraw'.

'Please specify the amount you want to withdraw.'

He charged as much as he could to his credit card and completed the transaction.

"So is that three thousand?" Shanaynay asked.

"Shanaynay, you do know most ATMs won't let you withdraw more then five hundred dollars a day, right?"

"_What?_" she gasped in surprise. "Why the hell is _that_ the limit?"

Shane rolled his eyes. "Gee, I don't know. Maybe for situations like this?"

Shanaynay was not happy with this impediment. "Son of a bitch! Now what?" As she was thinking, she seemed to realize something. She squinted at her hostage. "Wait. Was you gonna drive on outta here lettin' me think there was three grand on that card if I hadn't asked?"

Shane glanced from side to side. "Psshh… No…" he said nervously.

"Don't lie."

"I'm not! But I seriously think we should just stop this whole thing right now-"

The car behind them honked.

Shanaynay leaned her head out the window. "There is a motherfuckin' situation up here and it is _our_ turn!" she shouted. "Hold your goddamn horses or I'll hold them for you, and I swear to God I'll use your balls as the reins!" She waved her gun up and down for the driver to see.

The mom in the car, driving her kids home from a soccer game, backed up quickly (smashing into another car while doing so) and sped away down the street.

She pulled back into the passenger seat. "Well, I guess you'll have to go in and get the money."

"The security cameras just saw you and your gun," Shane pointed out.

Shanaynay got a look of puzzlement on her face. "Damn," she murmured, "I'm fuckin' up worse then Christina Aguilera singin' the national anthem." She sighed and put a pair of brown pantyhose—that, evidently, she had been prepared with—on her head. She also pulled up a large shopping bag from under the seat. "Alright, I'll be right back."

"Wait, where are you going?" Shane asked as she hopped out of the car and ran towards the bank's entrance. He was getting a bad feeling from the seemingly familiar scene. As he listened, he heard gunshots, screaming, an alarm going off, and glass shattering. Suddenly, voices were in his head.

"_Oop, can you pull over to 7-11?"_

"_You don't want a Zima or sumthin'?"_

"_Naw, you lyin'. That's too many fucking words for three letters, mm-mm."_

"I don't want to go back to jail!" Shane cried. He stomped the gas pedal. The car lurched forward- and hit a figure running out in front of it. He slammed on the brakes in the same instant.

Shanaynay's flustered, glass-and-blood covered face popped up in front of the hood. "What the HELL you doin'?" she screamed. She stumbled over to the passenger side door—carrying the filled grocery bag—and jumped in.

"Gogogogofuckergo!" she yelled.

Shane sped forward with a panicked expression on his face. Skidmarks stained the drive-thru. It was, unfortunately, not the first time he had been a crime scene getaway driver.

"Whoo!" Shanaynay whooped. "Come outta there shit-hot, and you just about turn me into into a fuckin' roadsalt pancake!" She shook her head like Shane was the one at fault. "Anyway, check _this _red out!" Hauling the bag onto the center console, she and Shane looked at the sum inside.

"I think I took 'bout five G, so we'se got some walkin' around money!"

Shane just stared at Shanaynay's face.

"Da fuck you lookin' at?" she asked.

"The…glass…"

"Oh! Yeah! You ain't gonna believe this! They had this big-ass bar operated by some button that goes across the door during a robbery. There weren't no way I was movin' _that_ fucker. So I had to jump out the damn window! Pissed me off so much, I had a mind to shoot that bitch behind the counter."

"No…I-In your face…"

"What about my face?" She pulled down the passenger vanity mirror and saw the damage the glass had done to her purrty hair and face.

"AAAAAAAAHHHH-"

_Two hours later…_

"I swear, you can offer me crack, crystal, heroin, any drug you want, and I still won't go down on you if money's not involved," Shanaynay said through a mouthful of ice cream. "But offer me some pralines n' cream and my knees will hit the ground no questions asked." Her face was covered in Band-Aids, though Shane wasn't sure that this was the most effective way to stop the bleeding. And considering that some pieces of glass were still embedded, and Shanaynay refused to go to the hospital because she was in the middle of kidnapping him, there was a good chance it wasn't going to heal properly.

"Oh, it's not the worst thing that's ever happened to me," she had said. And actually, it wasn't. Shane had seen a bullet hole blown through her arm, and she had still been walking and talking just fine, although it was someone in her family that shot her. Hell, she even had a hole through the back of her head, something he had found out due to a mishearing of a sexual innuendo.

In the back of the car were new suitcases filled with new clothes and personal hygiene products. (Wal-Mart was truly kick-ass.) Shanaynay was even able to get her passport picture taken there. She commented on how it looked just like her mug shot, right down to the bloody hair and Band-Aid head wrap. They had almost walked out the door with no troubles when she then decided to make fun of the entrance greeter's cerebral palsy by saying he looked like a frozen Michael Jackson _Thriller_ dancer. Shane had to hurry her out of the building.

He wasn't sure if he had much choice in the matter, but going to Germany now seemed less of a huge burden since everything was in order, granted the money was illegally obtained. This, coupled with the fact that if he resisted, he might actually die, had made him warm up to the idea a little more. And, well… It _was_ a vacation. What worried him is if Shanaynay had any idea of what to do.

"Shanaynay, do you know anything about Germany?" he asked.

"Course I do! I watched _Taken_. All I gotta do is not forget my stuff at the airport, not develop amnesia, and avoid crazy taxi driver bitches that don't know how to drive for jackshit."

He sighed. "Do you even know when the next flight to Germany is?"

His girlfriend was busy reapplying her third eyebrow. "Hmm?" she murmured. "Oh. I don't know. I figured just hop on the next plane goin' there. It shouldn't be too hard. As long as we don't have one of those first-time ticketing agent sluts that don't know anything besides that by-the-book bullshit."

Shane sighed. "So you haven't even thought this through?"

"Look, Shane, it may have been a split-second decision, but I know it was the right one. Killing yo aunt is all that matters at this point. You know what I'm sayin'?"

"I can't…can't say I do."

Shanaynay pulled out a salon board and started filing her nails. "Well, that just goes to show how much you know 'bout takin' the initiative and not letting others control your life."

"You held a gun to my head, I hardly think there was a choice as to whether I listen to you or not!"

"True," Shanaynay admitted. "But Shane, it's more than just takin' down Aunt Hilda."

"Well you might as well explain, because I really don't want to be kidnapped, dragged to a foreign country, have my personal savings spent and two of my family members killed for no good reason."

Shanaynay's eyes widened. "Really? I wouldn't want that for _any_ reason."

Shane stared at her.

"Jus' sayin'. But Shane, the truth is, my life's been gettin' kinda boring. Everyday it's the same old ghetto scene: wake up, go to work at some job I know I'll lose that same day, mug a pedestrian, smoke some funny-ass shit in the church's presbytery and stare at the resulting hallucinations of Johnny Depp's head on Jesus' body…"

Shane knitted his eyebrows at this image.

"And then repeat," Shanaynay concluded. "Now sure, it's fine and all if you're used to it- I mean, I was brought up in the alleyways, so I'm practically a part of the hood- but it gets boring after a while."

"You call life-threatening _boring?_"

Shanaynay gave him a look. "Shane, let pussies speak for themselves! I ain't no scurred-ass little bitchbaby. Look, my point is, I want a vacation. When I come back, I'll have had a break from it all, and finally be able to smile with pride and disgust at the renewed vision of the shithole I live in."

"Wow." Shane remarked. "I can see it now."

"I know. Pretty damn noble, huh?"

"No. I mean I can see the airport already."

Out the window was Los Angeles International Airport, with huge planes landing and taking off and a steady flow of traffic heading to and from the air station.

"I think we turn onto South Sepulveda…right?" Shane was asking.

But Shanaynay wasn't listening- her mind was imagining the look on Aunt Hilda's face when she showed up in Germany with a gun pointed at her ugly, sneering head.

_Your ass is _mine.

* * *

><p>"What the hell's takin' so long?" Shanaynay whined.<p>

They had just gotten through the Customs and baggage/body search lines (at which a guard seemed to search Shanaynay a little _too_ thoroughly) and were waiting to see if they could board the United Airlines Flight 8900 to Frankfurt. Of course, the ghetto woman had to ditch her gun; however, she had warned him about the one surgically implanted in her neck and how all she had to do was point and laugh. He wondered if she ever had to clean it.

Up ahead at the ticketing agent's desk, a Chinese man was complaining about why he wasn't allowed on his flight. It seemed that he had been randomly selected for additional screening. This dilemma was holding up the line.

"Fack you bic boi!" he yelled at the lady working the reception desk.

"Sir, if you would please calm down-"

"_You_ calm down! I don't want to hear dis bulla-shit abough duh extra butt search cavity or whatevah iss call, I pay for my ticket and I go on flight! Can I get duh someBOAD-DEE to be my witnehs today?"

"Security!" the woman called. Airport security guards in white uniforms apprehended the man from behind the arms.

"FACK YOUR MADOR! FACK YOU BIC BOIIIIII!" he cussed as he was dragged away.

"Hey, Shanaynay," Shane spoke up, "did that guy kind of sound like-"

"I wouldn't worry about it, Shane."

"But on YouTube-"

"He don't have nearly as many subscribers as us. It's nothin'."

Shane thought about it a moment longer and shrugged it off, getting the strangest feeling of wanting to call the Wal-Mart they had been at and complain about condoms.

After about fifteen minutes they were finally at the counter.

"Two tickets for the 8900 to Frankfurt," Shane requested.

"First class, too, none that crying baby coach crap for us," Shanaynay added.

"Let me check to see if we have seats available," said the woman with a cheerful smile and a hint of misery. She started typing something on her terminal.

Shanaynay raised her two left eyebrows. "Girl, you been lettin' people on all before us without typing anything in on your computer. What gives?"

She looked up. "Oh, I'm sorry. Due to recently issued protocol, all ticketing kiosks must now check to make sure first-class is completely booked before they allow secondary-class individuals to fill out any remaining seats."

The ghetto woman's eye twitched. "What do you mean, 'secondary-class individuals'?"

The agent blinked. "Oh, you know. People who don't exactly represent the qualities of a first-class patron."

Shane could see the rage building in his girlfriend's glaring eyes.

"Shanaynay…"

"You outta your damn mind? What the hell kinda protocol is this?"

"It's more of a personal one than a standard one," the lady answered.

"_Bitch I show you personal!_" Shanaynay shouted. She reached forward to strangle the woman, but Shane got in her way and tried to hold her back.

He turned his head to look at the woman. "Two for Economy is fine," he said in a quick, strained voice.

The woman, still smiling, handed him two tickets. "Enjoy your flight."

"Burn in hell, you plastic-faced fuckwit!" Shanaynay snarled.

Shane hauled her out of line and around the corner of the entrance to the boarding bridge. "Shanaynay, it's done, it's done!" he told her. "Look, I got the tickets, we can get on."

"That bitch knew, she knew what woulda happened!"

"At least it wasn't by the book."

"No, it was by my _ass!_"

"Yeah, sure. Let's go."

They walked through the gray tunnel, the little lights overhead casting their shadows on the plastic floor. Shanaynay flipped her hair back and readjusted her jean jacket. "Damn. Don't know why the acronym for this place is LAX 'cause that is the LAST thing I am right now!"

"Tell me about it," Shane muttered.

They found their seats easy enough, and he said a silent prayer of thanks that they weren't by any kids or fat people. He didn't know if his girlfriend would be able to keep her cool much longer. He sat by the window and Shanaynay filed in next to him, talking to herself about plans she was making to kill Aunt Hilda.

Disregarding all the threats was becoming more difficult. Shane realized that she had been thinking about killing Hilda this whole time, and hadn't been distracted by anything else. It was unusual for Shanaynay to stay so focused on getting revenge, and having brought it this far, he began to fear she wasn't going to give up. All he could do was hope that once they got into Germany, she would forget everything about vengeance and just spend a week doing whatever the hell she wanted to do for vacation. Oh, God… What _did_ she want to do? Best not to think about it.

"Hey! Peanuts!" Shanaynay said, picking up a package by her seat. She put a few in her mouth and started chewing noisily, but stopped after a few moments. She put her fingers up to her mouth. "Ugh…" Pulling something out, she stared at what she clutched. "…A pubic hair? How is that even possible? This was an unopened bag!"

Shane turned to look out the window, and saw the sun was already going down. The city smog gave the sky a purpled haze covering. Today was pretty unbelievable, but tomorrow was going to be even more hectic. Wait, what time would it be tomorrow? Just how many laws would Shanaynay break in Germany? And how would they explain themselves if they got in trouble? Did she even know where Aunt Hilda was? Wait a minute- Neither of them spoke German!

_Ah, screw it._

He closed his eyes and tried to get some rest.

"Goodnight, Shane," he heard Shanaynay whisper to him.

"'Night."

"Don't let the bedbugs bite."

He listened to the plane's engines starting up.

"'Cause if you do, somethin' pretty damn nasty's gonna happen to yo dick."

**What will happen when they get to Germany? You're guess is as good as mine without some feedback, so leave me a comment on how I'm doing!**


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